


how do i even... say that?

by nomind



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Communication, Dirty Talk, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomind/pseuds/nomind
Summary: “Look at me.” His voice is low. It’s a demand, not a question, and her eyes fly open at his commanding tone. The look in his eyes is dark, hot, overwhelming. It’s like he’s consuming her.“Tell me what you want.” His voice is quiet, but just as strong, the command just as palpable. She lifts an eyebrow. He moves in close, stares at her lips, gives her a few pecks, almost sweetly, but nothing more. His eyes move to hers again, the lust clear as he repeats his demand. “You’re gonna tell me what you want me to do to you, Elizabeth.”
Relationships: Beth Boland/Dean Boland (mentioned), Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 9
Kudos: 166





	how do i even... say that?

**Author's Note:**

> y'all ready for my first attempt at writing smut AND healthy communication! brio???

His hand is on her thigh, his thumb stroking the part where her hips and thighs meet. She leans her back against his chest, sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder, tilted towards the ceiling, her eyes closed.

“Damn baby, you so fine,” he whispers in her ear, kissing her neck for a good few minutes while she leans against him helplessly, still coming down from the orgasms she just had. When he starts sucking on her neck and nibling, the press of his teeth on the flesh makes her make a pleased sound.

“Mmm, feels so good,” escapes her lips, her eyes still closed in fucked-out bliss. She feels him smile against her neck. “Yeah, baby? Feels good?” He continues sucking and biting, as his hand keeps stroking the dip between her hip and thigh.

“Lemme tell you a secret,” he says after a minute. “You feel so good, too. Such soft skin, I wanna keep you in my bed for days.” A thrill flows through her body at the low rasp of his voice and the _want_ that’s in it. He laughs.

“You like the sound of that?”

The kisses in her neck and now on her jaw make her want to turn around and let him have his way with her again. But apparently she’s too quiet for his liking, as he stops his assault, moves a hand to her jaw and moves her face to his.

“Look at me.” His voice is low. It’s a demand, not a question, and her eyes fly open at his commanding tone. The look in his eyes is dark, hot, overwhelming. It’s like he’s consuming her.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is quiet, but just as strong, the command just as palpable. She lifts an eyebrow. He moves in close, stares at her lips, gives her a few pecks, almost sweetly, but nothing more. His eyes move to hers again, the lust clear as he repeats his demand. “You’re gonna tell me what you want me to do to you, Elizabeth.”

The chills run over her spine as she swallows. She knows he loves to talk dirty. She kind of loves that about sex with Rio, just how vocal he is. There’s a lot of things she loves about sex with him though, but his clear, undeniable want for her is high up on the list. Honestly, he barely shuts up, telling her how she’s making him feel, what he plans on doing next, recounting what he did last time, all of which always has her weak in the knees. Encouraging her, making sure she knows who’s fucking her (like she could ever forget), even begging her on occasion. He’s so detailed, so patient with it, yet so hungry for her, so into what they’re doing. It makes her feel sexy as hell.

But she’s not like him. Communicating what she wants in bed is a challenge, thanks to her sex negative upbringing and years of Dean’s selfish ways. Her ex-husband wasn’t very responsive to any of her needs, not very attuned to her, so it became easier to just not bother with it and order a new vibrator. Annie always jokes about Beth’s prudishness, not realizing just how deep the issue goes. It’s like she can barely allow herself to be a sexual being, to have sexual desires. The thought of explicitly talking about sex just… has her anxious. She’s so unfamiliar with it, so not used to it. 

Since she and Rio starting fucking on the regular, he’s tried to coax it out of her more and more, trying to get her to communicate honestly what she wants and what feels good and what doesn’t. He makes it so clear that he wants to get to know her body and wants to make it good for her – never mind the fact that it’s been good from the start, since that inevitable bar bathroom fuck. But it’s gotten so much better now that they’ve both had more time exploring each other’s bodies, discovering what makes the other person’s toes curl.

She remembers how hard she blushed when she told him that she liked having her nipples sucked. It’s not that he was ignoring them per se – not at all, her breasts mostly hold his attention. But that, specifically? He hadn’t really done that yet, and what can she say? She’s got sensitive nipples. He smiled with so much glee, anticipation, and pride at her confession, he spent the next hour absolutely _torturing_ her with attention to her nipples, which, after he slipped two fingers in her as well, led to one of the most satisfying orgasms she’s ever had. She still shivers anytime she thinks about it. 

But that was one time, one thing, and Rio didn’t make her feel bad for it, even though she was bracing herself for it. Decades with Dean who really didn’t care much for her satisfaction really did a number on her and she hates it, she does, but it’s so hard to vocalize what she wants in bed. And this explicit request? She’s already trying to fight the shame that’s crawling up her insides. How does he do this? How is he always this shameless?

The hand on her jaw moves to her throat, gently but possessively. He must recognize the fear in her eyes, or understand her silence for what it is, knowing her well enough by now. “Baby,” he coos, moving in to lean his forehead against hers and just breathe, his eyes closed. Then, softly, he kisses her lips, whispering to her quietly that she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.

His understanding moves her. This man, in many ways a dominating presence, with his sneaky possessive streak he’s in denial about, his penchant for pounding her hard, fast, and dirty like there’s no tomorrow and at times, smacking her ass whenever he feels like it, letting the sound fill the room, making her moan, is surprisingly considerate. But she wants to tell him now, more than before. She just doesn’t know how to get the words out of her mouth, and for some reason she now feels the tell-tale onset of tears.

Before her shame quadruples, his hand comes up to her face, wiping away the first tears that escape. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay mama, it’s okay, you can relax, I’m not gonna make you share.” His voice is light, kind, but she can’t meet his eyes, keeps them shut, taking a big gulp of air as she tries to soothe her body and make the tears stop. He brings his arms to envelop her body and without any seeming effort, lifts her up and moves her around on his lap, so that she’s now facing him fully, her legs on each side of his body.

“What’s wrong, baby? Do you wanna talk to me about what’s going on? Do you wanna look at me?”

More tears spill at his questions, at his patience. The thought of meeting his gaze and seeing his understanding while she loses herself over nothing too unbearable. “I’m just… you’re just… I don’t… I’m sorry,” she stammers, leaning into him, letting herself be held by him. In his arms she tries to calm herself down, knowing she’s overreacting.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” is the next thing out of her mouth, though it’s silent, as she’s pressed again his chest, basically mumbling in his throat.

“Okay, let’s set one thing straight. Look at me.” His no bullshit voice has her hesitantly lifting her head from his chest, looking at him with wide eyes. His hand cradles her face, thumb stroking her lower lip.

“Baby. You are not overreacting. It’s clear that you’re upset about something, and it seems like it’s real important to you. And what’s important to you, is important for me to know. Especially if it’s about what we’re doing and what you’re comfortable with.” 

Now something inside of her has made a full turn, and she is suddenly unable to look away from his eyes.

“I just… I just don’t understand why that’s so difficult for me. Saying what I want, I mean,” she starts after a minute. “I’m mad at myself for struggling with this. I don’t get it. It shouldn’t be an issue. You say everything so freely and I love it but for some reason I can’t even allow myself to think about what I want, let alone say it to you.” He looks at her patiently, wanting to hear her out.

“I wanna make you feel good and tell you what I wanna do but I just choke. I’m sorry,” she ends in a whisper.

There are a million things hidden in the look he gives her, things she can’t decipher. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You don’t have to apologize. You never have to apologize for having limits, mama, you know that.” He strokes her face, never breaking eye contact. “It’s okay, really. Tell me something.” She quirks a brow. He nods his head at her. “This been bothering you long?”

Her eyes move to her lap, unsure what to say, his gaze too intense now. After a silence that has her shifting uncomfortably in his lap, his voice is still steady as he asks, “Do you like what we’ve been doing?” 

Her eyes shoot up to his face at this, eager to reassure him. “Of course! I’ve loved every second of it. Truly,” she says. His smile is blinding, comforting. 

“That’s good,” he replies, thumbing her mouth again. He moves in close to steal soft kisses. “That’s good,” he repeats, softer now. His face hovers near her ears as he tells her all the ways he’s loved every second of what they’ve been doing, too. Telling her how he thinks about her when he’s not with her, thinks about being inside of her, getting her mewling helplessly as he pumps his hips hard and fast, without mercy. Telling her he loves her reactions, loves watching her face as she comes for him, as she begs, pleads, for release. Reassuring her he can’t get enough of her, of her gorgeous body, of her want for him. 

“You make me feel so good, baby, you have no idea,” he says breathlessly, his hands roaming all over her body, her hips, her thighs, her stomach. “I want you all the time. I keep thinking about fucking you, about the next time I get to fuck you, about the last time we did. You drive me crazy, mami.”

She looks at him, absolutely melting with every word that leaves his mouth, and presses her lips against his hard. Her hand crawls to his neck, holding him steady, as she tongues his mouth desperately. Her tears are forgotten, the shame she felt earlier disappearing at the taste of his tongue and the feeling of his pouty lips against hers. 

He proceeds to fuck her so slowly, so intensely, deeply, _thoroughly_ , with her on her back and her legs over his shoulders, this time the tears escape from how overwhelmed she is from the pleasure he’s giving her over and over and over again. He’s relentless, taking his sweet time, his face moving from one breast to another, sucking her nipples in his mouth, having her cry out his name, followed by a loud whine.

When she lies on her back a little later, sweaty, her nails scratching in his neck, as he lies on top of her, his face on her chest, she knows the conversation they were having is far from over. But with him lying there, still panting from his orgasm and the physical exertion of fucking her three times tonight catching up with him, one of her hands cradling his head as he makes a pleased sound and looks so blissfully happy, the thought doesn’t scare her. 

She lets her body relax, taking a deep breath, and feels his eyes on her. Meeting his eyes, she cocks the smile on his handsome face. “So good,” he whispers, leaning up from his comfortable position to kiss her lips. “So good,” she repeats, a smile on her face, and then she shows him, the only way she knows how, just how good it felt for her. She kisses him over and over, until they’re both breathless and panting, lazily swirling her tongue in his mouth, enjoying the feeling of him, so close, so near. They both know they’re too tired to go again, but let their bodies melt together nonetheless. Beth moans in Rio’s mouth, hands still on his neck, scratching and stroking him sweetly. 

“I love sex with you,” she says, voice shy. “I really, really do.” He smiles a soft, radiant smile that sends a thrill down her body. “I know you do, baby. I know, because I can feel it.” Then he moves closer, his lips against hers, and mumbles: “I love sex with you, too. Let’s go to sleep, mami, and we can fuck again tomorrow.” She laughs, giddy at the prospect and the eagerness in his voice. Then she lets him move her around so that he’s spooning her, one of his hands stroking her arms. “Go sleep, mami,” he whisper in her ear, pressing a little kiss behind her ear like a promise. She decides to humor him by letting herself drift off, knowing she’ll wake up with this man plastered all over her back, ready to have her again.

**Author's Note:**

> all my ladies and non-ladies w/ the communication issues unite!!!  
> no but really, it's so important to feel enough trust and safety w sexual partners to be able to communicate ur boundaries
> 
> ...right, now that i've gotten my first smut (ish?) fic out of the way, how do you feel about all this?


End file.
